


Red Tongues and Hands

by chocobee



Series: Whumptober 2018 [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Gen, Poor Prompto Argentum, Self-Sacrifice, Temporary Character Death, Whump, Whumptober 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-01 17:46:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16289027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocobee/pseuds/chocobee
Summary: Noct takes his attention off the ronin for, maybe, fifteen seconds to deal with a flan that’s moving up behind Ignis. In those fifteen seconds, three things happen: first, Gladio bellows,“Noct!”in warning, and then Noct is roughly shoved to the ground, and then Prompto lets out a wail that has Noct’s blood running cold and his hair standing on end.Day 2: Bloody Hands





	Red Tongues and Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Another Whumptober prompt over two weeks late, oops. This one kinda ended up a lot more graphic and violent than I intended it to be? So just a heads up. If you think I should up the rating or add any more warning tags, please feel free to let me know.
> 
> Title from The Wolves by Ben Howard.

The situation is not ideal.

They’re deep in a cave system following a dubious tip regarding the location of a possibly non-existent Royal Arm. There’s an innumerable amount of tunnels and caverns, and even more daemons. As soon as they manage to kill one thing, more take its place. They’re well past exhausted, and their supplies are dwindling frighteningly fast.

So, yeah. Not ideal.

Currently, they’re up against a ronin and some flan. They’re holding their ground well enough for now, but Noct won't be surprised if Ignis orders a tactical retreat soon, at the rate things are going.

Noct takes his attention off the ronin for, maybe, fifteen seconds to deal with a flan that’s moving up behind Ignis. In those fifteen seconds, three things happen: first, Gladio bellows, _“Noct!”_ in warning, and then Noct is roughly shoved to the ground, and then Prompto lets out a wail that has Noct’s blood running cold and his hair standing on end.

Noct looks up and time seems to freeze.

Prompto is dangling nearly three feet off the ground, the ronin’s long blade pierced through his chest. His mouth is open in a silent scream and his eyes are wide, hands weakly clutching at the blade. A little bit of blood drips from the corner of his mouth, and a lot more drips from his chest and onto the rocks below.

Noct can’t breathe. That should be him impaled up there, not Prompto.

And then time resumes, and the ronin simply flicks its wrist and Prompto slides off the blade with an agonized cry and crumbles to a heap on the ground.

All three of them call out to Prompto, but the blond remains unmoving. The ronin is still standing between him and them, but Prompto needs help _now,_ before he- if he isn't _already-_

Noct doesn't want to think about it.

Instead, he focuses on killing everything in his way. He pours all his anger and fear and desperation into his swings, but does his best to keep it all reined in enough to not get himself killed, just like Gladio taught him to.

It doesn’t take long for the daemon to keel over and begin dissolving into miasma, bubbling quietly in the near silence of the cavern. Weapons dismiss in a flash of blue as the three of them rush to where Prompto still hasn’t moved.

“Prompto!” Noct cries, skidding to his knees next to his friend, hands hovering. When he finally reaches to touch Prompto’s shoulder, he twitches at the contact, and now Noct can hear his shallow, choked breaths. He’s still alive, though barely. Noct wouldn’t call it a miracle, because he’s never seen someone suffering so much.

Prompto’s eyes are unfocused and glassy, but Noct can see the terror swimming in them. Noct’s never seen him look so afraid. He reaches a trembling, blood-soaked hand to weakly grasp at Noct’s jacket.

And then they realize that it's too late for him. They don’t have enough potions to fix him.

Prompto’s going to die.

“Prompto,” Noct gasps, a borderline sob. Tears are dripping down his cheeks.

Prompto tries to say something, maybe, but he chokes on blood and a little more dribbles past his lips. His hand falls limply to the ground, and then he lets out a final, shaky wheeze and goes still.

“Prompto?” Noct whispers. Prompto doesn't respond.

Gladio pulls Noct back by his shoulders and Ignis presses a plume of Phoenix Down to Prompto’s chest. The three of them watch with bated breath as bright flames circle Prompto.

They've never had to use a Phoenix Down before. Sure, Noct and Gladio and Ignis have extensive knowledge in magical healing, but it’s different when it’s your best friend laying there in a pool of their own blood.

For a moment, nothing happens, and Noct’s afraid the Phoenix Down somehow didn’t work. Prompto’s supposed to wake up, fully healed. He’d be completely drained for the better part of a day, but that doesn’t matter because he _should be alive._

And then Prompto gasps so loudly that Noct startles. He sits up quickly, eyes wide, and paws at his chest with both hands, feeling the now-closed wound. “Holy fuck,” he breathes. “Shit, I just- I just-” he cuts off, drooping suddenly, and Ignis is there to catch him.

“It’s alright,” Ignis says, hushed, “you're alright.” No one knows who he’s trying to comfort.

Prompto simply sits slumped against Ignis, breathing hard, for a moment. He blinks and then he’s suddenly struggling against the advisor’s hold, trying to sit up despite not having the strength to do so. “Noct?” he mumbles.

“I’m right here,” Noct says quickly, trying to soothe him. He moves into Prompto’s line of sight and the blond visibly relaxes again. Noct reaches to grab his hand, uncaring of all the blood.

“You ‘kay?” Prompto asks.

“Yeah,” Noct says, voice thick, “I’m okay. Promise.”

“Good,” Prompto says, eyes slipping shut. He gives Noct’s hand a weak squeeze, and Noct squeezes back.

“We should get back to the caravan,” Ignis says, tone tight and clipped. It’s the tone he gets whenever he’s trying to keep calm for everyone else’s sake. “He’s exhausted, he needs time to recover.”

Prompto’s limp and pliant as they maneuver him onto Gladio’s back. He wraps his arms around the Shield’s neck loosely, cheek squished into his shoulder. He drifts in and out during the trip back, mumbling nonsense whenever he’s awake enough to do so until Gladio shushes him quietly. Noct silently thanks every Astral when they make it back to the Regalia without further incident.

Ignis lays out an off-white towel on the backseat - stolen from a motel room, and now kept in the trunk of the Regalia for situations like this - to avoid getting blood on the leather. They get Prompto settled, curled up with his head in Gladio’s lap and the Shield’s jacket draped over him. He’d finally knocked out completely during the last stretch to the car.

The drive back is quiet. Noct sits up front with Ignis, staring out the window, lost in thought. Gladio runs his fingers through Prompto’s hair while he sleeps, and Ignis does his best to keep his eyes on the road, not on Prompto in the rearview mirror.

When Ignis finally parks the car, the three of them work quickly to get Prompto into the caravan and cleaned off. The bathroom is too tiny to fit more than one of them in there, so they make do with wet towels to wash as much blood off of Prompto as they can. He sleeps through the entire thing, and then they change him into his comfiest pajamas and tuck him into the nearest bed.

Gladio and Ignis let Noct have the first shower. He’s reluctant to leave Prompto’s side, but he can’t stand the feeling of his best friend’s blood on him. Ignis insists on going last, so when Noct exits the bathroom fifteen minutes later, he trades places with Gladio on the couch beside where Prompto’s sleeping.

Once Gladio and Ignis are both clean, they head out to get supplies and dinner, leaving Noct alone in the quiet. He leans back, eyes closed, and simply listens to the low puffs of Prompto breathing, trying to focus on the fact that Prompto is alive and well next to him. A sudden, soft, “Noct?” makes him blink and look up in surprise.

Prompto’s peering sleepily at him from under the blankets. Noct hadn’t expected him to be awake so soon. “Prompto? How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Tired,” Prompto says simply, blinking slowly at him.

“Specs said you should probably drink something once you woke up,” Noct says. He shifts a little closer.

“Later,” Prompto replies, wrestling a clumsy arm out from the blankets and reaching for Noct. “C’mere.”

Noct wastes no time settling down beside Prompto, wrapping his arms around the blond and pulling him close. Prompto immediately relaxes, already nearly asleep again, and the two of them lay in silence for a few minutes.

Eventually, Noct whispers, “Don't do that again.” He tightens his hold and pulls Prompto closer to him. “Please.”

Prompto doesn't answer, just sighs deeply, because they both know he’d do it again.

He’d do it as many times as he needed to.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Comments and kudos are always appreciated!
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://k-ovic.tumblr.com/) and [twitter.](https://twitter.com/choco_bee_) Follow for updates, and DMs are always open, so feel free to chat :)


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